Behind the Crimson Door
by Enlee
Summary: House and Wilson decide to bring someone new into the fold. The fourth in the series after The Rest of Forever, Life in Death and Because the Night. Please R&R!


_A/N: This is a continuation of the series of stories that started with "The Rest of Forever", and continued with "Life in Death" and "Because the Night". It's strange and dark and weird. Bon Appetit._

* * *

The last few months or so had been spent under the cover of night. They ran along the dark streets, hid in the shadows, feed their endless appetites for blood and each other. The latter two only seemed to intensify as time went on; in fact, Wilson figured he couldn't go any longer without blood than he could without having House in his arms and his taste on his tongue every night. Not that time really mattered to them anymore; only when the sun rose and they had to hide until dusk. That was fine. He was safe in House's arms. That's all time meant to Wilson, until House wanted to keep time from catching up to someone else.

"Does she still live at the same address?" House asked as they strolled down an empty street. Above them wisps of clouds drifted by the half-moon.

"As far as I know," Wilson answered. "Why?"

"I want to see her."

Wilson stopped dead in his tracks. "What for?"

"Because I like her. And so do you." House looked at his friend. "You can't honestly stand there and tell me you never wanted to sleep with her."

"No, I can't," Wilson had to agree.

"I didn't think so," House said with his trademark smirk. "But I _did_ sleep with her."

Wilson's jaw hit the ground. "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. A one-night stand, but one night is all it takes."

"Lucky bastard."

"Damn right."

"But why do you want to see her now? We've been gone for months. All we'll do is end up freaking her out."

"Or bring her into the fold."

After a lengthy pause, Wilson quietly said, "What?"

"You heard me."

"Greg?" Wilson was unable to hide the surprise in his voice. "What about _us_?"

"There will still be an _us_, Jimmy. There will always be an _us_. We can share and share alike, right?"

"What makes you think I want to share?"

"You would have gone to her if I had turned you down. What's the matter, Jimmy? Are you jealous? Afraid of losing me?"

"Yes."

"Don't be. Two is company and three is more fun. We wanted her then and what's to stop us now?"

"But why her? Why now?"

"I like her. She likes me. She likes you. How much longer can she keep scrolling through J-Date looking for her imaginary perfect man? She's always wanted someone to keep her warm on those cold winter nights; we can offer her two for the price of one."

"You've obviously put some thought into this."

"I have."

"You think she's just going welcome us with open arms?" Wilson sounded skeptical.

"Probably not, but I like to think it's a possibility. Should we keep this gift to ourselves and not share it with anyone else?"

"You're assuming this is a gift she wants," Wilson pointed out. "How do we know this is something she wants?"

"I want her." House narrowed his eyes at Wilson. "You got what you wanted. Why can't I?"

"I gave you a choice, remember? We owe her the same. What makes you think she's just going walk away from everything for us?"

"I did it for you."

"You're not her, Greg. You had everything to gain and nothing left to lose...except me."

"True, I'm not her. There's only one way to find out what the boss lady really wants from the rest of her life, isn't there?"

"We owe her a choice, Greg."

House grinned wickedly, his sharp teeth glinting under the faint moonlight. "I don't owe anything to anybody."

* * *

"Who is it?" came Cuddy's hesitant, muffled question after House pounded on her front door at some ungodly hour. With his excellent night vision House could see that Cuddy had a new front door, a deep crimson color. How fitting. He could picture her holding a baseball bat, ready to swing at a few kneecaps and skulls should the need arise.

"It's House."

"House?"

"Yes, it's me."

"Oh, my God!" The dull sound of locks tumbling, then the front door flung open and revealed a wide-eyed and pale Lisa Cuddy with a baseball bat in hand. Her translucent nightgown fluttered in the light breeze. "It's you! Where have-" Her words caught in her throat as she caught sight of the other man. "Wilson! Why didn't you say he was here with you, House? Where the hell have you two been?"

"Around," House answered dismissively.

"Around? _Around_?" Cuddy exclaimed incredulously, glancing back and forth between the two men on her porch. "Where the hell is _around_? Did it ever occur to either of you to call and let us know you were alright?"

"No."

"No? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"We left because we wanted to leave and we didn't want to be found," House explained.

"Where did you go?"

"Somewhere else."

Cuddy sighed in frustration. "So what are you doing here?"

"We wanted to see you."

"What for?" Cuddy grumbled, then stepped aside. "Come on, get in here. If we're going argue all night we can at least argue inside."

She watched them walk in, then frowned. "House, where is your cane?" she asked, closing the door and setting the bat in the corner.

"I don't need it anymore," House replied stonily, standing by the couch.

"Really?" she puzzled. "How is that possible?"

"I'm not in pain."

"No pain? Did you find some new super extra-strength Vicodin? Or are you high on something else?"

"I don't need the cane or the Vicodin anymore. My leg has been healed."

"How can a leg that had a muscle removed be healed? Have you lost your mind?" She looked over at Wilson. "Has he lost his mind?"

"No. He's telling the truth," Wilson answered.

"What truth? He just said his leg is healed; how is that the truth?"

"I healed it."

"Oh, my God," Cuddy groaned. "You've both gone insane--"

"No, we haven't," House broke in and began to walk over Cuddy. "You see me right now, walking without a limp, walking without pain, walking without the help of a cane. Now tell me what part of that is insane?"

Cuddy involuntarily backed up a step or two as House approached her; she now regretted setting the bat out of her reach. The telephone was on the other side of the room. House _was _walking without a limp with no trace of discomfort. Then she noticed in the brighter light of the living room how his eyes blazed, how they weren't clouded over from too many pills or too much booze. She saw how his hair was darker and how the crow's feet around his eyes had softened. His skin looked as if it had no pores; marble-smooth as a statue. House looked like he did fifteen years ago.

"House," she gasped, suddenly afraid. She felt exposed in her thin nightgown. "Don't touch me."

"Are you afraid of something, Dr. Cuddy?"

"Yes."

"What are you afraid of?"

"You."

"Don't be," House said with a ghost of a smile. The curve of her breasts were visible through her nightgown, and he absently licked his lips. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Like I said, I'm here because I wanted to see you."

"But…but your leg," Cuddy stammered. "How did you heal it?"

"It was a gift from Jimmy," House replied, turning towards his friend. Wilson took it as a cue to move up and stand beside House. "A gift I accepted because I had everything in the world to gain by accepting it. The pain is gone, my best friend is by my side. I'm a new man, so to speak." His smile widened, revealing a mouth full of sharp white teeth.

Cuddy swallowed the lump of horror rising in her throat. "It can't be…" she whispered.

"It is," Wilson said.

"You have nothing to be afraid of Dr. Cuddy," House again reassured her. "We're not here to hurt you. If we wanted to hurt you we would have done it by now."

"You're both monsters," she declared. "That's what you two are now."

"Monsters don't come calling to the people they care about."

"Call it what you want, you're still a monster."

"Maybe to some people, but not to you."

"Liar! What are you really doing here, House?" she demanded. "You didn't just decide to come see me out of the blue. You seem to forget how well I know you, House. New man…or monster, or whatever you are now, you're only here because you want something."

"You're absolutely right," the blue-eyed man said with a genuine smile. "I came here bearing a gift. Do monsters typically offer up a gift, Dr. Cuddy?"

"Gift? What gift?"

"You know," House told her. "You know what we came here for. Why else would we come by after all this time? We missed you."

Cuddy backed up another step. "You came here because you want _me_? You want me to be with you…forever."

House chuckled and said, "Yes. That's what I want. You of all people should know I usually get what I want."

"Not always."

"But you're forgetting something, Dr. Cuddy."

"What am I forgetting?"

"You're not my boss anymore," House replied, taking another step towards her, then another, until she was literally backed up against the wall. "You can't pull my authorization. You can't threaten me with more clinic duty. You can't take me off the case. You can't touch me. Now would you mind telling me what's to stop me from getting what I want?"

Cuddy swallowed hard. House was drunk on his power trip, enjoying the fact that he was controlling her in her own home. But his eyes…his eyes were fascinating. The brightest blue she had ever seen. She couldn't look away. She didn't want to. "What makes you think I want anything from you?" she asked.

"You answered my question with a question," he pointed out.

"So?"

"That's a sign of a liar. Right, Jimmy?"

"Sure." Wilson stayed where he was, making no move to intervene.

The Dean of Medicine frowned. "I'm not a liar."

"No, you're not," House agreed. "You just don't know you're lying."

Still staring into the endless deep of his blue eyes, Cuddy said, "I don't understand."

"You know what you want," he began. "You're just afraid to ask for it. We're not monsters. You know that. You don't want to be alone anymore. You know that as well. You know why we came back for you. If we really didn't want to be with you, would we be offering the rest of forever? How many more long lonely nights spent in the company of patient files can you stand, Dr. Cuddy?"

"I love my job. I'm good at my job."

"You are good at your job. But you're paying the price for being the one everybody turns to, aren't you?"

Long days followed by longer nights, and all she got was an empty house waiting for her and an empty bed to crash into. She gave and gave and gave everything to everyone and got shit in return. Funny how she didn't see it that way up until now.

"I…," she choked out. "I've paid my dues. No good deed goes unpunished."

"How very true."

"I deserve something in return, don't I?"

"You do."

"I heard…"

"What did you hear?"

"I heard…about Tritter. I heard about what happened to him. Did you do that?" No trace of accusation towards him in her voice, just curiosity.

Smiling down at her, House replied, "The son of a bitch had it coming."

"He did," she said, a little surprised to hear herself say such a thing and mean it. "If not you than someone else would have been more than happy to give him what he deserved."

"Exactly." House sounded strangely proud of her. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Yes, please."

His cold hand wrapped around her fingers and she felt herself being led to her own sofa. Sitting down with House, she felt detached and far-off, as if she was watching everything from distance. Everything was going to change in a few minutes. Something she couldn't stop and wasn't even sure if it had already began. A new world was waiting for her where nothing would be as she knew it. When Wilson sat down on the other side of her, she was barely aware of it.

House brushed her hair away from her face and back from her shoulders, exposing the long line of her neck. Wilson took her hand and rubbed her palm in slow, reassuring circles with his thumb.

Tracing a finger down the soft skin of her cheek, House said, "You're very beautiful, Lisa Cuddy." He meant it.

"Thank you."

"You saved my life. You saved me from prison. I never thanked you."

"You don't have to," she said, still feeling a bit lost in his blue eyes. "House?"

"Yes?"

"I'm afraid."

"Are you still afraid of me? Of Jimmy?"

"No, I'm afraid of what's going to happen…after this. I'm afraid I'll be overwhelmed by it all," Cuddy explained, a single tear trailing down the skin House had just touched. "I just can't believe it's real…all this is real…"

"I was a bit overwhelmed myself at first," House said. "We'll be there for you. We'll always be there for you from now on."

"Whatever you need," Wilson added, placing a gentle kiss on her hand. "We'll help you get through it."

"We came back for you, Cuddy," House told her. "We came back because we wanted you to be with us."

"I know," she said. "I missed you when you were gone."

"You did?"

"Yes."

House leaned in and kissed her. Her mouth was soft and she tasted faintly of mint. He couldn't help but smile a little as he felt her kiss him back. He broke away and peppered her face with soft kisses, making his way down to her neck. Her smooth neck, the natural whiteness of the skin. The rapid pulse underneath the skin. The rich red blood flowing there. Unable to resist any longer, he bit through her skin, her neck, the warm blood pouring into his mouth.

She felt a jolt of electricity through her spine, and another as Wilson sank his teeth into her wrist. An involuntary cry tore from her throat. Fireworks exploded in front of her eyes, her head roared with white noise. Her hips bucked with each pulse of blood pulled out of her. It was beautiful; it was exquisite; it was pleasure and pain and torture and bliss and everything in between. Then she felt herself relaxing, relaxing into a sweet dream painted with brilliant colors. Relaxing like she was slipping into a warm bath. Relaxing because she knew she had nothing left to fear anymore--no more pain, frustration, misery, headaches, loneliness, despair, worry. Just relaxing and floating away on a cloud of beautiful calmness.

A voice in her sweet dream. A voice talking to her. It was House. He was talking to her. "Cuddy, drink this." Something warm against her mouth. In her mouth. The warmth spread across her tongue and down her throat and it was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. The calmness in her shattered like glass. Suddenly she was wide awake and ravenous and wanting more and more of the warm delicious taste. It ran like a river into her mouth and she couldn't get enough and she could go on just drink it forever.

Then it was gone, wrenched away. She cried out for more and felt herself being held still, held back from getting more. She had to have more. She had to. She twisted and struggled but couldn't break free. Another voice was whispering to her. Someone was whispering in her ear, telling her to take it easy, just hold still and take it easy. Everything would be fine in a few minutes. The sensation of being petted, a hand running through her hair. It was Wilson. He was holding her. She was shaking uncontrollably and he was holding her. House was at the other end of the sofa, rubbing his wrist and looking weirdly drained.

The living room came back into focus, sharp focus. The colors burst through, the edges looked sharper, everything was shining with a new brilliance. The dark hallway was clear as day. House was watching her and smiled, the electric blue of his eyes were like spotlights shining on her. She looked at her wrist, the one Wilson had fed on. Only two pink scar-like marks remained. They continued to fade as she watched.

Wilson kissed her cheek. "Welcome to the first night of your new life."

"The first night of forever?" she asked.

"Forever, eternity, whatever you want to call it," Wilson replied.

"What are we going to do with forever?"

House answered, "Whatever we want. It's ours for the taking."

He slid over and cupped her face in his hands, admiring the new ethereal beauty that all but glowed from her. Thick dark curls of her hair, ocean-blue eyes, marble-white skin, mouth red from the blood she drank.

"Your new world is just outside," House told her, nodding at the crimson front door. "Would you like to see it?"

"Yes." She smiled, showing off her new razor sharp teeth. "I want to see forever looks like."

--The End.


End file.
